


Peter Pan

by cathcer1984



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Butt Plugs, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub, Getting Together, Kinks, M/M, Misunderstandings, Online Dating, Online Relationship, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: Stiles meets Pan online and falls hard. It doesn't turn out as expected.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 416





	Peter Pan

**Author's Note:**

> This became a lot of smut. I'm not sorry.

Stiles joined because he was lonely. He was back in Beacon Hills after college, the Pack all had partners and Stiles had his job. While he loved being a deputy, and working with his dad Stiles wanted someone else to spend his time, and hopefully his life, with. 

So he joined an online dating website. Stiles filled out the profile with a fake name and a picture of him at his work Christmas party, head cropped off, it showcases his lean body in a suit. 

It didn't take long before he had a response. A lot of responses, some vulgar and some uninteresting but one caught his eye. Mostly the photo of a thick patch of chest hair peeking out from a v-neck sweater. It's enticing, so Stiles replies to the very unoriginal 'hey'. 

Soon enough Stiles, as Steve, and Pan (after his favourite character Peter Pan) were exchanging messages almost constantly. 

Stiles gets caught up in the anonymity of 'Steve'. He can talk to Pan about anything: his fears of being alone, his sexual desire to be manhandled and dominated, his need for control in most other areas of his life. 

Pan was smart, witty, kind. He gave Stiles orders to eat well, to not jerk off, to go out with his friends. He took care of Stiles from afar. 

There was something familiar about Pan- his sarcasm, his casual mention of wealth, not to mention the thick neck and chest hair combination in v-neck sweaters makes Stiles sure he _knows_ Pan. 

Stiles has fallen hard for him. 

They have sex over their messages. Tell each other what they want to do, Stiles jerks off to their messages both as they are happening and afterwards when he wants to jerk off for fun. Stiles closes his eyes and imagines Pan's hands on him, his body over Stiles. A face with blue eyes and a smirk flashes in Stiles' mind and he comes, every time he comes. 

He's not stupid, he knows that Pan is a flawed man and practically a stranger but Stiles knows him. Stiles knows that Pan is afraid of dying, that he doesn't have much family and he isn't all the close to them. Pan has a daughter in her mid-twenties, he'd been hesitant to share that fact. Stiles doesn't care. 

Pan is the kind of man Stiles is willing to spend the rest of his life with. They talk constantly via the dating site and app. Stiles downloaded it onto his phone so he could text Pan during work breaks and Pack meetings, the ones he goes to anyway. Not much is happening on the supernatural front so Stiles skips them sometimes, more often recently, to talk to Pan.

It's been a whirlwind three months since they met and Stiles is ready to hold Pan's hand. He wants to kiss Pan and start their life together. Pan wants that too. 

So they arrange to meet. In public because Stiles is a cop and he's paranoid. They find a place to meet that's convenient for both of them. 

A coffee shop in the next town over. Stiles will wear his jeans and the same shirt from the photo and Pan will wear a v-neck sweater. They're too meet at two in the afternoon. It's a weekday when Stiles isn't on shift and Pan doesn't seem to work, just lives off his never-ending wealth. 

It's half past one and Stiles is early. He has a coffee in front of him, playing on his phone, leg bouncing when the chair opposite is occupied. 

Stiles can't help feeling smug even as he smiles, his voice breathless with happiness "Peter." 

"What's going on?" Peter Hale demands. His eyes are cold and he's not wearing a V-neck sweater. "Stiles." He snaps harshly. 

"I- what?" Stiles is confused, embarrassed even, as Peter glares at him. 

"You've been pulling away from the Pack. You're meeting someone away from Beacon Hills. What is going on." 

"You followed me here?" 

"Of course I did."

"Paranoid much?"

Peter gives him a flat look. "The last time a Pack member of mine met someone out of town after pulling away my family burned and so did I. I think I have a right to be paranoid."

Stiles feels his face heat. He'd been so stupid to the think, to be so sure that Peter was Pan.

"Steve?" 

Turning to see a man standing next to their table in a blue V-neck sweater Stiles asks incredulously "Pan?" 

The man smiles widely. Nodding, but he's looking between Stiles and Peter confused. "Yeah. It's, uh, Jack." 

"Hello Jack. I'm Stiles, this is Peter my safety person." Stiles says with a smile at Pan, Jack, and a glare at Peter. 

After holding Stiles' gaze for a long moment Peter puts his hands up and stands. He's side by side with Jack now and Stiles can't help but compare and find that Jack is lackluster. He's softer than Peter's muscular bulk, shorter by an inch or so, and Stiles is disappointed. 

Peter's nostrils flare as he takes in Stiles' scent. "I'll keep in touch Stiles. And remember, if he takes you to a second location it's probably because he wants to kill you." He saunters off without another word but Stiles can see the tightness in his shoulders. 

Jack slides into Peter's empty seat, a strained smile on his face. 

"Sorry about him. He's an asshole." Stiles explains. 

"Yet he's your safety person." 

Shrugging, Stiles responds "he's an asshole who has my back." 

"I'm a little hurt you don't trust me. Why do you think you need a safety person?" Jack has pale eyes that are focused on Stiles, uncomfortably so. 

"I do trust you. I'm just also not an idiot." 

Jack narrows his eyes. They look over each other, Stiles is feeling uncomfortable. Something doesn't seem right, maybe because Peter has got him out of sorts or because he can't match the man he's seeing before him with the person he's spoken too the last few months. 

**

Two hours later Stiles is back home. His phone pings with a message from Jack, _missing you already, babe_. It makes Stiles shudder. 

Everything the Jack did, Stiles compared with Peter. Jack's smirks looks creepy not sexy and smug, when he used endearments (mostly babe) it was condescending and not warming. He wasn't as sarcastic as expected and when Stiles was quick-witted he found that he had to explain himself or apologise to Jack. 

He couldn't be himself. Stiles feels despondent and he's disappointed in himself for giving so much to a stranger. He had been so sure that Pan was Peter, so damned sure. The little details added up, the daughter Stiles' age wasn't Malia but Judy. The absence of close family was because Jack divorced his wife for a twink, then was left alone and they disowned him. Not because they were burned to death.

Stiles wants to to something, anything he just doesn't know what. His phone rings and when he sees it's Peter Stiles sighs, thinks about not answering. 

"Yeah?" 

"You're alive then." 

"Not now, Peter. I don't need this right now." Stiles sighs. 

There is a moment of silence. "Are you alright, darling?" 

Suddenly overwhelmed with disappointment, embarrassment, loneliness and stupidity Stiles whimpers out a "no." 

"Oh sweetheart." Peter sounds genuine, he's not condescending at all. He's not creepy about it either. "Did it not go well?" 

"He wasn't -" Stiles cut himself off before he humiliated himself more by saying ' _you_ '. 

"Wasn't what, love?" Peter asks quietly. 

"Enough. Right. Take your pick."

"Are you seeing him again?" There is something in Peter's tone that makes Stiles sit up. He says it lightly yet it's almost like he's holding his breath. 

"I don't think so." Stiles replies slowly. "He's not who I want." 

"No?" Peter murmurs, "and who do you want, sweetheart?" 

"You... You know that's not a fair thing to ask."

"It's not?" Peter sighs down the phone then they just listen to each other breathing down the line. Stiles' phone buzzes against his cheek with another message. "That him?" 

"Probably." Stiles closes his eyes wishing Peter was here and hoping never to see him again. "Peter?" 

"Yes, love?" 

"I- thank you. But, can you not say anything to the Pack?" 

Peter huffs a small laugh. "For you, Stiles, I'll keep my mouth shut." 

"Peter?" Stiles asks softly, when Peter hums he chickens out and says "see you later."

"Goodbye, darling." 

Hanging up the phone Stiles holds it against his face. He's such an idiot. Stiles reads the message Jack has sent it's demanding and creepy. So Stiles sends one back, _I had a good time today but I don't think it's going to work out. Thanks for the coffee. And I hope you find your special someone soon._

Jack responds instantly with swearing and calling Stiles a tease for leading him on, demanding sex as payment for the coffee. Insisting he can change and pleading that Stiles give him another chance before going back to swearing at him. 

With little hesitation, and so glad he didn't give Jack his mobile number Stiles deletes his account. He still feels heavy but lighter in a way. Online dating is not for him, he'd rather be lonely than deal with men like that. 

And of he's completely honest with himself Stiles is too much in love with Peter Hale to be available to anyone else. 

A knock sounds on his door. For an irrational moment Stiles thinks it's Jack. Then he shakes his head and knows that Jack didn't follow him home and couldn't get into Stiles' apartment building. It's got to be one of his neighbours, one of the Pack or his dad. 

Opening the door Stiles is pushed aside as Peter barges his way in. He's looking around and sniffing. "Come in Peter." Stiles says sarcastically. 

Peter stands in Stiles' tiny, messy living room. He looks at home, comfortable there like he belongs. Stiles wants to keep him, he can't. He knows he can't have him. 

"You sounded... sad." Peter says by means of an explanation.

"So you came down here to what? Cheer me up?" 

Shaking his head Peter steps closer. "I came to ask you to stop dating strangers from the internet." 

"I- what?" 

"You heard me. It's for the safety of the Pack."

"Bullshit!" Stiles embraces the anger. "How dare you! This has nothing to with the Pack. You have no right to ask that of me, Peter. No fucking right to come in here and demand that I stop dating." 

"Online dating, love." Peter clarifies. 

"Stop it!" Stiles clenches his hands into fists. "Stop saying that! Things like that!" 

"I- I apologise I did not realise it upset you so much." 

The anger deflates out of Stiles as he takes in the careful way Peter is holding himself, the way he's facing Stiles front on though avoiding his gaze. "No, Peter," Stiles can't finish his sentence. He moves closer and then sinks into his couch. 

Peter's eyes follow him. 

"You don't have to worry about it, Peter. I've already deleted me account, okay? You can go now." 

"What if I don't want to?" Peter's voice is hoarse. "What if-" he comes closer and closer until he sits on the couch, their knees touch "-what if I told you I was jealous?" 

Stiles holds Peter's gaze. 

"Peter." 

Watching him Stiles sees Peter lick his lips and follows the motion with his eyes before flicking his gaze of to meet Peter's. "What if I say that you were happy to see me and that your scent soured with disappointment when he came?" 

"That's not fair." Stiles hates the way his voice breaks. 

Peter reaches out a hand and touches a fingertip to Stiles' jaw and his thumb brushes Stiles' cheekbone. "Darling," Peter whispers, "what if I don't want to share you?"

Swallowing thickly Stiles closes his eyes and tips his head into Peter's hand, it instantly cups his cheek and has the added bonus of baring his throat. 

Peter moves his thumb to brush at the soft skin under Stiles' eye. "Open your eyes, sweetheart, I want you to know it's me."

Stiles does, eyes half lidded and he smiles softly his hand coming to rest on Peter's thigh. "Oh Peter. It's always you." 

The smile Peter gives him is soft, beautiful and only for Stiles. He leans in giving Stiles plenty of time to pull away. 

Stiles doesn't. He tips his head even more and close this eyes half a second after their lips meet. The kiss is chaste, a simple press of lips slotting together. It's achingly soft, full of the promise of more. Peter pulls away too soon. 

He presses his lips to Stiles' closed eyes, he drags his mouth in barely there caress down Stiles' cheek, sucks a little kiss against the underside of Stiles' jaw. Peter trails his mouth down to nip and suck at the pulse point in Stiles' neck. 

Clutching at Peter's thigh and his hair Stiles is panting for air. It's so gentle and they've barely kissed but he feels like he's bearing his soul to Peter. Peter is being so gentle with him, treating Stiles like his glass and it's heady. It makes Stiles want to be looked after, and cared for just as much as he wants to be manhandled and dominated. 

He wants what _Peter_ will give him. 

Peter kisses his mouth again. This time Stiles flicks his tongue out to trace Peter's lower lip. He uses his teeth to hold it in his mouth before sucking lightly. Peter growls in his throat, it vibrates through him and Stiles falls back on the couch dragging Peter on top of him.

That changes things. 

Peter cages him in, he pulls back his eyes burning beta blue as he settles between Stiles' spread thighs. 

They hold gazes for a second before coming together in a clash of teeth and tongues. The kisses are deep and slick, hands grab at clothing. Stiles slides his hands under Peter's shirt, digging his nails into the skin there. 

Peter thrusts his hips forward, pressing his hard cock against Stiles'. He holds them both there and pulls back from the kiss. "What do you want, Stiles?" 

"I want you to fuck me." 

"Anything else, love?" 

"I want you to manhandle me, dominate me." Stiles' cheeks are burning and he shifts his gaze from Peter to the ceiling. 

"Look at me." Peter commands. Stiles is helpless to ignore. "When you're talking to me, you look at me. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." 

Peter pushes his hips further forward so the pressure on Stiles' dick goes from pleasurable to painful. "Try that again."

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good, darling " Peter rewards him by shifting his hips back a little and frotting against Stiles while kissing him. 

Then, suddenly it's all stopped. Peter gets up and Stiles looks him over. His chest his heaving, his hair In disarray, eyes burning, trousers tented and shirt untucked and rumpled. 

Before Stiles can think anything more than a proud 'I did that' he's hauled to his feet and then over Peter's shoulder. 

Peter is striding for the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind them and tenderly places Stiles down on the mattress. They kiss again Peter rests his weight on his forearms either side of Stiles' head.

"If we do this, Stiles, if we go any further then you're mine."

Stiles grins and tangles a hand in Peter's hair. "Yours, Peter. I want to be yours, only yours."

"You are, love." Peter smiles and kisses Stiles tenderly. "And I'm yours." 

"Yeah you are." Stiles waggles his eyebrows and laughs when Peter rolls his eyes. 

Peter ducks his head and sucks a kiss into the skin of Stiles' neck silencing his laugh and turning it into a moan. "Fuck, Peter," Stiles lifts his hips up rocking into Peter. 

"That comes later," Peter replies as he moves down Stiles' body unbuttoning his shirt, nipping and pressing wet kisses to the skin he uncovers. 

Stiles lies there moaning and breathing heavy as Peter undresses him. Peter doesn't touch his cock, the closest he came was when he was tugging the zip of Stiles' jeans down. 

He kept biting and licking his way down Stiles' sensitive inner thighs. Peter paid a lot of attention to the skin behind Stiles' knee. 

"Uh, what? Peter. That's my knee, it's not overly sensitive." 

Peter turns a bit pink. He pressed his face into Stiles' thigh. 

Stiles sits up. He moves his leg carefully out of Peter's grip and brings their faces close together. Stiles kisses him tenderly on the mouth. "It's okay. Talk to me Peter, communication is good." 

"It tastes-" Peter inhales deeply "-like you smell. Behind your knees, under your arms, your groin and sometimes your neck are paces where sweat and scent collect." 

"And you like my scent?" Stiles asks hesitantly. 

"It's intoxicating." Peter says darkly. "You've always smelt good to me, sweetheart."

Stiles shifts to put himself on Peter's lap, straddling his thighs. He gets a thrill out of being naked while Peter is still fully dressed. Stiles is sliding his hands up Peter's shoulders slowly until they rest on either side of his neck. Stiles kisses him softly.

Then Stiles moves to tug Peter out of his shirt, and with slight trepidation Stiles pushes his face into the skin and hair under Peter's arm. Peter's breath hitches and he lifts his arm, hand behind his head. 

Taking a big inhale Stiles notes a spicy smell and a hit of cleanness from deodorant. Peter lets out a groan that rumbles through his chest. Stiles darts out his tongue, then clamps his teeth around the top of Peter's underarm and sucks. 

Peter moans. Stiles sits up to look at him. Peter has his eyes closed, he's wolfed out though and breathing fast. 

"Look at you," Stiles murmurs. 

Opening his eyes, bright beta blue Peter gazes at Stiles as if he hung the moon. 

"You're so beautiful, Peter." Stiles whispers against his lips "you are. So out of control, it's mesmerizing." He kisses Peter, tracing his tongue over Peter's fangs and when he cuts himself Peter sucks the blood away. Peter's clawed hands have come up to hold onto Stiles' ass cheeks. 

Stiles is smiling as he undoes Peter's trousers. Peter growls as Stiles takes him in hand. "That's it, Peter. You're so good for me, Sir." Peter is letting out a constant rumble deep in his chest, his eyes are half lidded and focused on Stiles' face. 

Stroking quickly, thumbing the head of Peter's cock spreading the precum around Stiles isn't wasting time. He wants Peter to come, and soon. "Come on, Sir. Peter, come on me. Mark me up, I want everyone to know I'm yours. That's it Peter-" Stiles encourages, lips on Peter's throat as he shifts his hips, thrusting up into Stiles' hand. 

Peter comes suddenly with a snarl. Stiles strokes him through his orgasm. Peter closes his eyes and tips his head back as his breathing returns to normal. He gets his control back and his human features have returned. 

Stiles calmly licks Peter's come from his fingers after smearing some over his thighs. Peter opens his eyes and watches him hungrily. Stiles pauses in his licking to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't stop on my account, sweetheart." Peter smirks. "You look like you're enjoying yourself." 

"There you are." 

Peter shakes his head. Sliding his hands up Stiles' thighs Peter says "Stiles, love, you have no idea what you do to me." 

"Oh?" Stiles takes a last lick of his fingers and he falls back onto the bed, his legs open wide around Peter's hips. "Come on Peter, I want you in me."

Peter presses a dry finger against Stiles' hole. It makes Stiles jump he wasn't expecting Peter to be so direct. "You want me in here, sweetheart?" Peter asks around a smirk.

With a moan Stiles nods frantically. Peter sucks a bruise onto Stiles' hipbone then fishes the lube out from under Stiles' pillow.

Two slick fingers are rubbing and pressing against Stiles' hole before Peter pushes them both in. It's slow and he makes sure Stiles can take them both at once.

"You're so greedy for me." Peter says breathlessly, "your greedy little hole just pulling me in. You need to be filled don't you, sweetheart?"

"Only by you," Stiles pants. "Please, Peter."

"More?" Peter is surprised. His voice lowers and he pushes his fingers all the way in to the third knuckle, "fuck, Stiles."

"That's the plan, Sir." Stiles smirks as he clenches around Peter's fingers.

"Condom?" Peter asks seriously as if he doesn't have two fingers stretching Stiles and a thumb rubbing against Stiles' sensitive rim.

Stiles shakes his head. "I trust you."

"I can't give you anything, darling and I can't get you pregnant."

"Not without a little Spark intervention," Stiles waggles his fingers at Peter.

Peter freezes, eyes wide. "Seriously?"

"That turn you on Sir? You like the idea of fucking me full of your pups, seeing me swell- Oh!" Stiles shouts out as Peter pushes his fingers against Stiles' prostate.

"Yes, Stiles, that turns me on." Peter withdraws his finger and slicks his cock with more lube. "If you're amenable, love, to have sex while I'm in my beta-shift I would knot you."

"Really?" Stiles knows his heartbeat speeds up.

Peter's head tilts to the side, his face intent as he registers Stiles' interest. "We'll have to prepare you well for it, love. Work up to it but given how well you took both my fingers you have the potential, sweetheart." He leans over Stiles and takes his mouth in a demanding kiss, lowers himself so their chests meet.

Stiles gasps into Peter's mouth as he's filled, slowly, by Peter's cock. Throwing his head back, tightening his legs around Peter's waist Stiles gasps for air.

"That good, love?"

"So good. Fuck. You fill me up so good, Peter." Stiles scrambles to hold on to Peter's shoulders. Peter stops when their hips meet.

It doesn't take much before they are kissing again, it's deep and wet. Their tongues slide together, slick and messy, Peter starts to rock his hips and Stiles sees stars.

They move together as if they've done this before, it's easy and familiar yet every touch is new, each kiss draws a different sound, every thrust and clench is a strange, exhilarating sensation.

Stiles is moaning against Peter's lips, his cheek. He hold onto Peter, keeping him close. Stiles likes the way Peter's wiry chest hair feels against his mostly, smooth chest.

Peter is overwhelming. His thrusts are fast and hard, then slow and deep, then he just rocks his hips slightly. He is covering Stiles with his body, his mouth peppers Stiles' lips and jaw with kisses. Peter's eyes are intense and he watches Stiles with an expression of tenderness and wonder.

So caught up in Peter Stiles is surprised when his orgasm comes. It rushes over him and through him, Stiles grips tighter on Peter, digging his nails in. He throws his head back in a silent scream, coming between his and Peter's bellies. Stiles' legs shake around Peter's hips and he digs his heels into the meaty flesh of Peter's ass. Stiles spasms around Peter's cock and as he falls from his high, deliberately clenches around him.

With a howl Peter comes. He keeps pushing his cock, and come, into Stiles. Eventually, slowly he pulls out Stiles can't hide the wince and Peter strokes down his side in apology.

Peter sits up on his knees, hands holding Stiles' legs open around him. Stiles watches Peter's face as he looks between Stiles' legs at his own come dripping from Stiles' hole. Peter uses two fingers to move the come back inside Stiles. "You smell like mine." Peter growls.

"I have a plug in the bedside drawer if you want to use it, Sir." Stiles suggests, voice slurred with fatigue.

"Oh I very much do." Peter shifts to the side and finds the plug. It's small, silicone with a ring handle, Peter holds it up and asks "you're alright sleeping with this in?"

"Peter, Sir, I've gone to Pack meetings with that in."

"Would you do that for me?" Peter murmurs as he pours lube onto the plug. "Let me fill you up with come and plug you up."

"Just to be clear, you want me to walk into a Pack meeting, with my friends who are werewolves using a butt plug to keep your come inside?"

Peter focuses on where he's pushing the plug into Stiles, eyes intense. The plug slides in easily, it's not as wide as Peter's cock and Stiles is slick with lube and come. "That is exactly what I want, Stiles."

He taps the base of the plug with a finger, it jolts through Stiles who groans. They rearrange themselves so Peter is lying on his side and Stiles is on his stomach next to him, arms pillowing his head.

Their heads are turned together. Stiles and Peter trade gentle kisses. "I have a confession, Peter." Stiles whispers, his eyes closed and he's nearing sleep.

"Mmmhmm." Peter hums, his fingers are trailing random patterns over the skin of Stiles' back.

"I love you."

Peter's hand falters for a moment then continues its aimless journey.

"You don't have to say anything, Peter. I'm not asking you to love me back or anything but communication is important right?" Stiles relaxes even further, pleased he's got it off his chest.

"But I do." Peter says randomly. He moves.and kisses odd places on Stiles' back.

"Do what?"

"Love you." Peter says matter-of-factly. He moves from placing a kiss at the base of Stiles' spine to pressing one against the side of his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing your moles, love." Peter nips at Stiles' earlobe. "Go to sleep. We'll talk more over dinner, on a couple of hours."

"You'll be here?"

"Yes love," Peter settles down, his warm body against Stiles' side, throwing an arm and a leg over him. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Mmm'kay." Stiles sniffs then wriggles to get comfortable. He peeks an eye open and Peter smirks at him. "Love you." Stiles says because he can and because it's true.

"I love you too, Stiles." Peter leans in to kiss Stiles' mouth. 

Soon enough Stiles has drifted off to sleep warm, safe and happy in Peter's embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr and take requests](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Let me know if I need to tag anything else.


End file.
